


Smoke

by sensitivebore



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-14
Updated: 2013-02-14
Packaged: 2017-11-29 06:02:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/683675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sensitivebore/pseuds/sensitivebore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carson and Hughes, and smoke.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Smoke

He's sitting, reading, smoking his pipe when she opens the door, puts her head in. Elsie wrinkles her nose at the smell, acts offended.

"Smoke, everywhere. You, Miss O'Brien and Thomas, His Lordship. Not a breath of fresh air left in this house between the four of you."

Carson smiles, taps the pipe against the table to tamp down the fragrant tobacco, sits it carefully in the ashtray. He'll let it burn out, the way he always does when she joins him, despite her protests that it's his pantry, he has every right to smoke despite what she thinks. She gives a little pleased sniff and slides into her chair by the fire.

"It's not good for the health, you know, that's why I stir myself to say anything." She folds her hands in her lap, gives him her best prim look. If she's honest, which she doesn't care to be about this particular subject, she quite likes the smell. She's caught herself inhaling with a pleased little smile when he brushes past her in the hallways, in the servant's hall. The tobacco he smokes has a deep cherry scent, a lovely warm smell, though she won't tell him that.

She's read recently that smoking isn't thought to be very good for the health, after all. Well, some said it was and some said it wasn't, doctors could never agree, but why risk it? Besides, it's her place to nag at him about such things; she's the closest he's got to a wife.

"To the contrary, Mrs. Hughes; several reputable doctors say it's precisely the opposite — good for the digestion, for sleep, for the nerves." He's lofty, superior, lords his knowledge over her. He's not actually certain if it's good for him or not, but it's no matter. He's giving it up anyway.

It's a pleasing enough habit and he doesn't indulge too often - a pipe each evening with his book, his wine — but the cost does add up and there are other things those pounds could go toward. Carson looks at her hands clasped neatly there, looks at her fingers and wonders about them. Wonders if she would like a ring — not any ring, but a particular one he saw in the jeweler's window in London. Sapphire, he believes it was, flashing and blue and set perfectly in a slender golden band.

It would make a respectable engagement ring, and if he gives up smoking, he can afford it in a few months, put away the saved money with the other funds he's quietly built for the last couple of years. He's already written, asked for it to be held back for him, already put a deposit on it.

She may well say no when he asks her, he's aware of that, but giving up his little nightly vice will be well worth having a proper ring to ask her with.

"Mr. Carson?"

He snaps to, looks at her, smiles. "I'm sorry, I was lost in thought. You're right, it's a foolish habit and I'm thinking of giving it up."

Elsie eyes him speculatively. He never gives in to an argument this easily, never capitulates without a good drawn-out battle. "Well, you shouldn't give it up on my account, surely." Looks up at him through her lashes, bends her lips in a cheeky grin. He studies her for a moment, thinks of the pretty gem he's saving for. Returns her smile, turns away to pour her wine.

"Surely."


End file.
